In These Shoes
by emw314
Summary: Buffy is forced to go on a holiday, and has a great time. But was someone listening in?


Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or 'In These Shoes' by Kirsty MacColl

A/N: This song started playing, and I suddenly thought of this. This is a wonderful, fun song, and I urge people everywhere to get a copy.

A/N2: I guess this could be classed as a songfic, but... What it is is a piece of fluffy fun. Also, timeline is a little skewed. This is set post-Chosen, while the actual song was released in 2000. The song is available through iTunes.

* * *

Buffy was enjoying herself. She was in a bar, wearing fabulous clothes and the most amazing stilettos she had found on sale, and talking to this really hunky guy about all the wild places he'd been. The fact that she was on a _forced_ vacation from Slayer Central? Bonus.

Mr Hunkmeister leaned forward and grinned his gut-tightening grin. "Let's make love on a mountain top, under the stars on a big hard rock," he murmured.

Buffy jerked back, and glanced down at her feet. "In these shoes?" she squeaked. "I don't think so!" She bit her lip as she looked around for an answer. When one dawned, she smirked, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. She slid off her seat at the bar, and walked off, ensuring there was an extra sway to her hips. She looked back over her shoulder at Hunkalicious. "Let's do it here."

* * *

Buffy looked out over the pool of the Guadalajara Hilton, thinking about maybe some spar time when she noticed a man walk in. His walk was pure Spike (oh, my!) but his expression was dreamy and far away. He caught her eye, and slunk straight up to her. She fanned herself, thinking that Mexico was suddenly a lot hotter. Sliding one hand over her hip, he pulled her close. ""I've got as powerful horse outside," he murmured, his hot breath winging over her ear, and sending her pulse soaring. "Climb on the back, I'll take you for a ride. I know a little place, we can get there for the break of day."

Wait, what? Horse? Riding? Yeah, horses are beautiful, and manes tossing and galloping and all that, but... She looked down at herself, then up at him. Riding? "In these shoes?" she blurted out. "No way, Jose." When he jerked back, surprised, she realised she needed to do something to fix this. A scene from a few days ago flicked through her mind, and she smiled up at him. "Honey, let's stay right here."

* * *

Buffy swayed through the bar on her new season stiletto sandals, and smiled dreamily. Forced vacation, Guadalajara Hilton, not one, but two absolutely hunky guys asking her out. Best. Holiday. Ever!

She found a table overlooking the beach, and sat down, carefully smoothing her fun little sun-dress. She'd have to work in some extra time for a tan, but this was nice, too. She wondered who she'd meet today.

Turns out, it was one of Giles' fellow countrymen, but more modelled after Ripper than Rupert, though with not as hard an edge as Giles' alternate character. More dissolute, she decided. (Ha! And people complain about her vocabulary. She knows words!) Hair dark and rumpled like Xander's (eyes dark as Xander's, too... hmm...) but a smile more like Spike's when he was trying to get her to do something. He had dropped himself onto a chair at her table and promptly began to flirt. Really, really flirt. And he was good. So he wasn't the big-and-buff cowboy types she had recently dated. He was still muy hot.

He was also about as … kinky as the others. Or maybe more so. To go with the dissoluteness of him. After half an hour of desperate flirting, he had leaned forward. "Oh" he had moaned, "won't you walk up and down my spine? It makes me feel strangely alive."

Buffy looked at him, eyes wide, before flicking a glance at her feet. "In these shoes?" she squeaked. (Had he seen them?) "I doubt you'd survive." Thinking back to the previous two men she'd met here, she smiled slyly, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Worked before, should work again. "Honey," she murmured, "let's do it. Let's stay right here."

* * *

Months after her forced vacation (how do I manage to get another of those, she wondered) Buffy was thinking about her time in Guadalajara, when her attention was taken by Dawn's excited squeal. The radio was quickly turned up, and Buffy heard a Latin beat. When the woman began to sing, Buffy's eyes widened, then her jaw dropped. She rushed over to the radio, and turned it around.

"What's this?" she demanded.

"It's a new song by Kirsty MacColl," Dawn replied. "Cool, hey."

The chorus came on, in Spanish, Buffy decided. She frowned. "What's she saying," she asked, worried.

"Oh, um... 'She doesn't like to walk, she can't ride a horse, But the way she dances, it's a scandal.' Um... Is there a problem."

"No," Buffy squeaked, blushing. "No problem," she denied, before rushing out of the room.

Dawn looked at the radio, and went over the lyrics in her head. Her eyebrows went up, and her mouth formed a 'O' before morphing into a grin. She laughed. Now she had a CD to buy. And play. Often. On repeat.

* * *

In These Shoes, Written by Kirsty & Pete Glenister, from www[dot]kirstymaccoll[dot]com/music/lyrics/in_these_shoes[dot]htm


End file.
